


An Evening With Remus

by Kattlupin



Series: An Endless Account of First Dates [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cooking, Drinking, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Sirius is smitten, Star Gazing, and just oh so lovable, because who wouldn’t be, implied tragic history, just so much fluff, remus is incredible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattlupin/pseuds/Kattlupin
Summary: His smile is reserved, shy even, and it perfectly complements the slightly oversized jumper worn over tight jeans that are folded and cropped at the ankles right above a pair of simple Chuck Taylor’s. Sirius is instantly smitten.





	An Evening With Remus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [underthenightsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthenightsky/gifts).

> Inspired by a conversation about Great first dates with @underthenightsky Thank you for the inspiration Sarah! 💛

Sirius extends the kickstand down with the heel of his left boot as his right hand turns the key to kill the engine of his motorbike. He looks around. This little corner of the English countryside is quite peaceful, a nice respite from the constantly bustling neighborhoods he’s used to in London. 

Old, full leaf trees sporadically line the winding roads, supplying the occasional cottage with a modicum of privacy from the rare passerby. It’s in front of one of those cottages that Sirius finds himself now. There’s no address or even a real indicator that he’s in the right place. Just a hand painted sign, hung from an intricately gnarled post, with the words Lupin Cottage neatly enscripted onto it. 

Sirius walks up the crooked stone walkway to the front door, a moderately priced bottle of red wine he knows nothing about in his hand. He himself would prefer whiskey, but from what he’s gathered through online chats, reblogs and shit posts, this Remus Lupin is a wine guy. Sirius hopes the bottle he’s holding, one the woman at his local liquor store told him was sure to impress, is indeed something his date will enjoy.

He hits the knocker on the door and smartly shifts the bottle of wine into his left hand, freeing his right so it’s available to shake in introduction if need be. Sirius swallows as he hears the telltale signs of someone unlatching the lock from inside. His pulse picks up slightly in anticipation or maybe it’s nerves, he’s never really been able to tell the difference. He eagerly waits to not just meet but actual see the man he’s been incessantly flirting with over the last few months under the relative anonymity that is provided by their shared fandom. 

The door opens and Sirius is struck dumb. The man on the other side of the door, this Remus Lupin, is beautiful. Warm, creamy and perfectly golden sun kissed skin, complete with a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. Deep and rich amber colored eyes, slightly obscured by a perfectly disheveled mop of loose caramel colored curls, the type that would become waves if it was longer. His smile is reserved, shy even, and it perfectly complements the slightly oversized jumper worn over tight jeans that are folded and cropped at the ankles right above a pair of simple Chuck Taylor’s. Sirius is instantly smitten. 

“Hi, you must be Sirius,” Remus greets, extending his hand. Sirius takes it in his own, enjoying the way the smaller mans hand feels clutched in his palm with his fingers so easily wrapped over the side. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Please, come in.”

Sirius flashes Remus his most charming smile, his nerves calmed by the faint blush it sends up Remus’s smooth cheeks. A silent signal that Sirius recognizes as Remus’s mutual interest. “Nice to finally meet you too Remus.”

Remus closes the door behind Sirius and ushers him inside. The cottage itself is small, only slightly larger than the flat Sirius occupies in London, but it’s much warmer, homier and all around more pleasant. There’s a soft, late summer breeze blowing throughout from the open windows, bringing the smell of grass and the days earlier rain in with it. 

“Here,” Sirius says, extending the bottle of wine to Remus. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t know much about wine.”

Remus looks the bottle over, and Sirius watches as his lips turn up even higher at the corners. Remus gestures towards the dining table positioned behind them. Situated in the center is a duplicate bottle to the one he is holding. “It’s more than okay. It’s currently my favorite. Would you like a glass?”

“Yes please,” Sirius answers with a lightness to his voice, internally noting that if tonight goes well, he needs to drop by the liquor store and personally thank the woman behind the counter again. When Remus turns around, Sirius let’s his eyes take in the full view of Remus’s backside. Narrow shoulders and even narrower hips, connected by the perfect V-shape of his torso. Lithe limbs, that Sirius already wants to feel wrapped around his broader and taller frame. 

Remus turns to hand Sirius a glass and Sirius quickly averts his eyes back to the warm whiskey colored pools that are Remus’s eyes. He wants to drink the man standing before him, but opts to sip his wine instead.

“I hope Italian is alright with you,” Remus says cordially. And in his daze, it takes Sirius a minute to realize he’s talking about food. “I figured everybody likes pasta.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, coming out of his stupor. “Pasta is great.”

“I’m not much of a cook,” Remus says as he turns and enters the kitchen. “So you’ll have to forgive me if this isn’t the best meal you’ve ever had.”

Sirius smiles at Remus’s back, thinking he could serve him burnt toast and Sirius wouldn’t care. All he wants is to taste the man before him anyways. “I’m not much of a cook either,” Sirius confesses. “Lots of take out for me.”

Sirius takes another sip of his wine and steps into the small kitchen, pleased at how closely the two men need to stand together to occupy the space. He looks over Remus’s shoulder, where he’s idly stirring a sauce with the same care the witches in the fantasy books and fics they read would stir a potion. 

“You stir sauce the way Rose brews a potion,” Sirius quips, hoping Remus will catch the reference. 

Remus looks over his shoulder and briefly locks eyes with Sirius as he laughs genuinely at Sirius’s joke. “I hope not!” Remus scoffs. “I always fancied myself more of a Romulus personally.”

“Of course you do, Remus,” Sirius jokes with emphasis. And it is quite fitting. The character in question, Romulus like Remus, is described to be reserved, mysterious, wickedly smart. He’s said to be slight, but capable and a bit wolfish, like his name suggests. Sirius looks Remus over again, and catches a glimpse of a white almost silvery slash across the bridge of Remus’s nose. A mark that must have been hidden before in the shadow of Remus’s hair. A scar that for some would be a turn off, but for Sirius is definitely a turn on. “You’re not a werewolf as well are you?”

“No more than you’re a dog like your name would suggest,” Remus teases back. 

Sirius raises an eyebrow at Remus, a devilish grin on his face. “So you’re definitely a werewolf then?” 

Remus laughs out loud, rich and warm like chocolate melting in the sun. The thrill of it rebounds around the room and encases Sirius’s senses in an all encompassing joy. And Sirius knows he will do whatever he can to hear that laugh again and again. 

“Want a taste?” Remus asks, pulling the spoon out of the pot. 

Sirius leans in, he lets Remus feed him. It’s an oddly intimate thing to do when they’ve only just met, yet something about Remus Lupin has immediately set Sirius’s soul at ease. He closes his eyes and tastes. It’s perfect. Creamy and smooth, a slight bit of acidity that keeps the flavor of the tomatoes bright on the tongue. Sirius swallows and smiles warmly at Remus. “It’s good. Are you sure you’re not a professional?”

Sirius is rewarded with a smile and a faint blush rising up Remus’s cheeks. His eyes, if possible, look even warmer than they already are. “It’s the only thing I can make. A recipe I’ve perfected over the years.”

“Cooked pasta for lots of boys than, have you?” Sirius attempts to tease, but immediately regrets it. Fearing that he sounded judgmental or even jealous. It’s not his place to be like this. He’s just met Remus and he is certainly no innocent flower himself. He attempts to backtrack. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No,” Remus laughs. “I don’t get a lot of dates around here.” 

“I guess I’ll have to make this trip again then, would be a shame for you to be left alone out here.” Sirius sips his wine, and watches Remus flush again at Sirius’s very forward advance. He can’t figure out what it is, but though they’ve only just met less than an hour ago, Sirius already knows that he wants to be here. 

“I guess you will,” Remus says, a self conscious smile on his face. Lips slightly tilted upward, eyes down cast and a shoulder raising as if he’s trying to hide behind it. 

Remus finishes preparing dinner and carries the bowl filled with pasta and sauce to the table. He places it beside a basket of crusty bread and gestures for Sirius to sit down. Sirius grabs the wine and fills their glasses with ease, giving the bottle a little turn as he lifts to keep it from spilling. A trick he’s learned over the years pouring his whiskey. 

Over dinner, conversation is light and easy. Formalities of when’s your birthday, followed by discussions of their sings. Both agreeing that a Scorpio and a Pisces is likely a good match due to their shared element of water. They talk of their fandom and headcanons and what their latest fic is, bouncing ideas off of each other with promises to beta. 

Once dinner is complete, they open the second bottle of wine, the one Sirius had brought and take it outside to drink under the stars. With the near full moon providing the only real illumination. Sirius lets remus guide him to the Adirondack chairs that reside on the darkened patio. 

Sirius studies Remus in the moonlight. It makes him appear a bit ethereal, other worldly and his scar shimmers above all else. Sirius wants to touch him, but knows better than to do such a thing just yet. 

“Moons almost full,” Remus says, breaking Sirius from his thoughts and visual fixation. 

“If you were Romulus, you’d be cursing it right now.”

“I would be. But if you were Arcturus White, you’d be taking care of me, if you know what I mean.” 

Sirius doesn’t need to see him to know that Remus is smirking. The wine must be making him bolder, more flirty, and Sirius not only likes it but is spurred on by his forward implication. “Who says I’m not,” Sirius says as he grabs Remus’s hand in his. “And who says I won’t.”

“Well I guess it only makes sense, you with your name written in the stars and me with my story written in my scars. We’re very much a similar pair to the two of them.” Sirius feels Remus rub his thumb across his knuckles a comforting gesture after such a somber statement. 

A statement that has Sirius more curious about the man beside him. He doesn’t want to ask what he meant about the scars, he’ll tell him when he’s ready. Sirius tries to lighten him back up with a joke. “So are you saying you’re a werewolf then?” 

Remus laughs warmly and gives Sirius’s hand a gentle squeeze. “If I was, would you stay with me?”

“Of course I would. One doesn’t write as many fluff and smut werewolf stories as I do and not jump at the chance to live out those fantasies.” Sirius turns his head to get a better look at Remus at his side. His shy smile has returned and Sirius is even more endeared to him. 

“I hate to disappoint Sirius Black, but I am not a werewolf. Just a grown man with a tragic past.”

Sirius leans across the space between them and places his hand on the side of Remus’s face, he turns him to look at him. “I’m not disappointed.”

Remus leans into his touch and his eyes flutter a bit closed. Sirius senses that perhaps it’s been some time since anyone has touched Remus in such a way. The thought is a bit sad but Sirius doesn’t let it stop him. He leans further in and kisses Remus tenderly to start, then lets it evolve to a more languid exploration when Remus doesn’t pull away. 

To Sirius, it’s the best kiss of his life. More inline with the kisses he writes about than anything else he’s ever experienced with anyone before. He suddenly realizes that all the fluff he’s written over the last year or so, has actually been based in the truth. A truth he hadn’t yet experienced. 

When they finally pull apart, Sirius feels a bit drunk on the experience. And he knows he’ll never be able to get enough of Remus lupin. 

“Would you like to stay?” Remus asks a bit breathlessly. 

“I already told you I would,” Sirius whispers before kissing Remus again. “Like Romulus and Arcturus, I’ll stay with you till the end.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let’s chat! Here or on tumblr. We can talk ideal first dates and maybe it’ll inspire another fic. 💛 katt


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